She must have refreshed her inbox a hundred times in the last fifteen minutes alone, but still she's no closer to any answers than when she'd begun. She's nibbling at her lower lip, waiting anxiously for it to refresh once more when her alone time is interrupted.

"Simmons."

She looks up quickly, tucking her phone guiltily behind her back as she does so. Not that she has any reason to be guilty, exactly, it's just that she's not particularly fond of the idea of anyone finding out just how long she's been at this. Melinda stands in the doorway, looking as though she could care less what Jemma is doing, for which Jemma is, for once, immensely grateful.

"Yes? Agent May?"

"Coulson wants you in the conference room," Melinda says, nodding over her shoulder.

"Oh. Yes, of course," Jemma answers, hurrying along after her when the older agent begins to leave the room.

Given everything that's just occurred, Jemma hardly finds it surprising that Phil would like a team meeting. Of course, Grant isn't there to join them, but no doubt he'll be debriefed once he returns. She worries for him—it can't be easy having to take down someone he had looked up to, someone he had trusted. It seems there's a lot of that in store for them; there's no telling just how far HYDRA's reach extends.

And running through her mind for hours has been one thing: a warning. The warning that things were about to change. Jasper had been right, just not in a way she could have ever anticipated. But what does that mean? What does it mean that he had known? Or… had he? What, exactly, had he been so careful to keep secret? Her calls to him have gone unanswered. Out of desperation, she'd even tried to email Carlos in the hopes that he might know something that she didn't, but it's been radio silence on all ends. Hopefully, once this meeting is over, she can ask Phil to look into the matter for her. It's a favor she's asked of him more than once and no doubt now, with S.H.I.E.L.D. in pieces, he'll want Jasper at his back.

Jemma likes to be punctual, but even then it strikes her as odd that when Melinda is granted access to the locked conference room, the only person within it is Phil. It could just be that she's the first to have been called, but it's then that she notices Melinda hasn't followed her into the room. Phil nods his thanks to Melinda before returning his attention to Jemma.

"Have a seat, please, Jemma."

She hesitates, glancing behind her at Melinda for guidance. The other woman merely inclines her head towards the room before tapping a code into the wall panel, shutting the door between them. As the door swishes shut behind her, she casts her gaze towards the empty seats before her.

"I don't suppose you'd rather wait until the others arrive?" she inquires.

"I didn't ask for the others. This meeting is between you and me," Phil says.

She freezes. Had he found out what she'd been doing here before everything had gone to hell? Is that what this is about? She knows he'd forbidden her from looking further into GH-325, but he couldn't be that angry with her. Could he? Dipping her head in a polite nod, she slowly makes her way towards the proffered seat and quietly slips into it, awaiting whatever it is he has in store for her.

He doesn't speak for a long stretch of time and she wonders if he's allowing her to sweat it out. It certainly seems like the sort of tactic he'd use; patiently waiting in silence until she couldn't stand it anymore and cracked. But when she looks closer, it seems to her that he is the one under pressure. With a heavy sigh, he scrubs his hands across his face before looking to her with eyes which are red-rimmed and glassy. Of course he must be exhausted, given that he hasn't given himself a moment to rest since all of this had begun, but there's something else.

"I don't want to do this. I have looked for every conceivable answer to tell me that what I'm seeing is wrong or that the facts have been misinterpreted," Phil says at last. "I've looked for answers and the only ones I've found were the ones I'd hoped I wouldn't."

"Sir, if this is about Skye's blood samples, I can ex—"

"No. No, this isn't about that," Phil says, looking troubled. He hesitates and that alone is enough to set off all sorts of warning bells in her mind. "Jemma… When was the last time you had contact with Jasper?"

She inhales sharply, the question twisting in her gut like a honed knife.

No.

No, not this.

"Not… Not since before he was reassigned to the Lemurian Star," Jemma says, hearing the way her voice shakes but unable to do anything to stop it. She can feel tears stinging her eyes as the question on the tip of her tongue drowns out anything else in her mind. But she doesn't want to ask. For a moment, she wants to pretend that this isn't happening, that he isn't about to tell her what she's so afraid of hearing. But she can only delay the inevitable so long. Swallowing thickly, she pulls herself together just enough to ask, "He's… gone, isn't he?"

Phil's expression never seems to settle. It shifts as rapidly as her emotions, mirroring the whirlwind inside her chest threatening to crack her ribcage wide open and tear her apart from the inside. She's clinging to the hope that she's wrong, that her gut instinct is leading her astray.

"Jasper was killed by an enemy combatant known as the Winter Soldier," Phil says, his attempt at a neutral expression unable to filter out the pain his eyes held.

The breath she didn't know she was holding comes out of her in a rush. Her whole body tingles numbly, her head filled with white noise. This can't actually be happening. She knew he was involved in something dangerous, but… but he was always so capable, she never thought it would ever truly come to this. In the same sense that she understood that the work they all did was very dangerous and that any one of them could be hurt or worse at any time, it had always felt like a distant possibility. That it could happen but that it wouldn't happen.

"There's something else," Phil says, his tone grim. "As I've said, I've combed through everything I could find, pieced together everything available to me and I wish I could tell you something other than the truth."

"Sir," Jemma says quietly, her voice barely a whisper. "Please."

"According to the reports, Jasper Sitwell was a double agent working for HYDRA," Phil says, his eyes never leaving hers. "This has been confirmed by numerous sources including Captain America and Agent Romanoff, both of whom were present at the time of his death."

"That's not true," Jemma says fiercely.

"I don't want it to be true either, but—"

"No. It isn't true," Jemma says, hot, angry tears spilling down her cheeks as she shoots up from her seat. "You know him, sir, he wouldn't… He would never…"

"I thought I knew him," Phil says softly. "But I thought I knew John Garrett, too."

"That's not… That's not the same," she retorts, even as she watches him tap the interactive tabletop and begin pulling up reports. "No. No, no, no, that's not true. Stop it. Stop it, now, you're his friend, stop."

Video feeds, reports, photographs, decrypted files, sound bites… Phil pulls up mountains and mountains of evidence to support his statement. And all she has is… what, exactly? Trust? She turns away, squeezing her eyes shut against the onslaught of images, trying to bring to mind something, anything, which might refute the evidence before her.

But he had warned her. He had said that things would change, drastically. He had said there would be a turning point. He had kept things from her, so many things, asked her not to forgive him and… oh. When they had gone to dinner. When Alexander Pierce had come to greet them. He had talked about… about all the hard work Jasper had done for him. For them.

For Hydra.

Suddenly it's like there isn't enough air in the room. Her hand flails out, reaching for purchase against the table as he knees buckle. She's hardly aware of arms around her or of the fact that she doesn't fall to the floor, but is rather gently lowered as she draws, quick, hiccupping breaths. She's choking on tears and the air that she can't seem to breathe as Phil kneels before her. He reaches up, his hands framing her face as his thumbs attempt to brush away the tears that won't stop.

"Jemma," he says, his voice cracking on her name, "I am so, so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Right then and there, she knows. Phil wouldn't have come to her unless he were certain. Because he and Jasper were friends. Or… he'd thought they were. For everything they'd been through together, she knows he wouldn't dream of telling her any of this unless he'd confirmed it for himself. With that realization, whatever hope she'd been clinging to is ripped out of her hands. A sob tears its way out of her as she feels that crushing weight in her chest cave in, leaving a gaping hole within her.

She closes the distance between them, throwing her arms about him and burying her face in his jacket. He doesn't flinch as he had months ago. Instead, he holds her close and allows her to sob brokenly into his shoulder. She doesn't know how long they stay that way, only that she cries herself hoarse until she's exhausted and wrung out and raw. She sniffles and hiccups as he slowly rubs her back, doing what he can to soothe a hurt that they both know can't be soothed.

"I'm going to keep looking," he tells her. "I've known Jasper for damn near twenty years. Something doesn't add up and I want to know what. Or maybe… it's simply that I don't want to accept that he would do this. Or that I can't. But if there's something to find, I promise you, I won't stop looking until I find out what it is."

"I should have known," she sniffles. "I should have… found out or looked further into what he was working on or… or…"

"You couldn't have known. None of us did," Phil corrects her. "So don't you dare waste one second blaming yourself. What he did to you is not your fault."

No, she supposes it isn't. But it still feels like it is. She had been, quite literally, sleeping with the enemy. He had played her and she had merrily gone along with it all. Had she just been his way of keeping tabs on their team? Had she unwittingly been his source, given him information that HYDRA could use against them? Phil says she is innocent in all of this, but she doesn't feel it.

"…is it terrible of me to miss him?" she wonders after some time has passed.

"If it does, I guess that makes me terrible, too," Phil admits.

You shouldn't miss people who have betrayed you. She knows that. Logically, she knows that. If only convincing her heart of that fact were so simple.

Jemma sits cross legged on her bunk, doing everything she can to shelve whatever she's feeling so she can get back to work. Because they need her now. None of them can afford to be sitting around like this, not when there's so much to do. Phil had asked her to take some time to herself and she knows he doesn't expect her to get back to work, but she expects it of herself. Yet, here she is, sitting in bed like they don't have an organization to rebuild from the ashes.

A knock just outside her door draws her attention and she hurriedly begins sweeping wadded up tissues into the wastebasket, reluctant to let anyone see. Rising from her bed, she hurriedly wipes at her eyes and prays they don't look too puffy as she opens the door. Leo and Skye greet her, holding a plate full of sandwiches and an armful of water bottles like some sort of peace offering.

"Fitz and I were just about to eat lunch," Skye says, holding up the plate. "We thought you might want in."

Jemma offers them a tight smile. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry."

"Jemma, you haven't eaten in almost two days," Leo says, firmly, but not unkindly. "It's just a sandwich."

Jemma has a hundred and one excuses prepared, but as she opens her mouth to deliver them, she stops. This isn't healthy, what she's doing. She can't just lock herself away from the people who care about her. If she lets this destroy her, then they've already lost. So instead, she gives them a little nod of her head and steps aside to grant them entry.

"Alright," she says.

It's cramped with the three of them in there, but Jemma can't say she minds. Sandwiched between Skye and Leo as they all eat in silence, she finds that being around them isn't as difficult as she'd thought it might be. She's needed her space, that's something she's not going to deny, but part of her had been ashamed to face these people, her found family. Because she had been fooled, been played, been taken in, and she'd never seen it coming. Beyond just hurting, it was mortifying. Her two friends have long since finished their sandwiches as she sits with half of hers still left. As much as she knows she needs to eat, even a few small bites are enough to turn her stomach.

"Well, when you look back on it, you shot a HYDRA agent in the chest. So technically you got a jump on it before everyone else," Skye says, breaking the silence.

Jemma can't stop the teary laugh the comment draws. That's Skye's way. Where others would tiptoe around the problem, Skye will find a way to spin it into something else. She isn't afraid to be blunt, but she knows how to read people, how to bring up a topic that she knows needs to be talked out without stepping on anyone's toes.

"I just can't help feeling… well, ridiculous, I suppose. Ashamed," Jemma says, picking at the bread of her sandwich. "I could have put us all in danger."

"That's not your fault. That's his," Leo is quick to assure her. "Just because you were… close… doesn't mean you could have known any more than the rest of us."

"I know, but I just wonder," Jemma says, shaking her head. "How much of it was just an act? How much of it did I fall for?"

"Beating yourself up for something that wasn't your fault won't do you any good," Skye says, patting her back. "It sounds like he had everyone fooled. Coulson and May have known him for, what, years? Even they had no idea."

"I suppose you're right," Jemma agrees quietly.

Perhaps it's a bit conceited of her to assume she'd been closer to Jasper than they had, but she still can't help but feel that the circumstances are very different. She's sure that Phil and Melinda knew Jasper in a way that she didn't—and perhaps never could—but in the same sense, she knows she'd seen a part of him that they hadn't. That's what makes her wonder. Had he been so talented an actor that he could seemingly open himself up to her, all to maintain his cover? You'd practically have to be a sociopath to pull that sort of thing off and he seemed anything but. He was warm, kind, empathetic and understanding. But Victoria Hand had said that they could be, hadn't she? They make you like them. Was it all that strange to think that they could make you love them as well?

It still feels wrong. Somehow, it doesn't seem right, regardless of the facts in front of her. Hadn't Phil said something about it was bothering him? But maybe that was just denial. Maybe that's what they were both experiencing right now.

"You still love him, don't you?" Leo asks quietly, his eyes dragging up to meet hers.

Her eyes sting with tears again. It's that obvious. Everyone can see it. She's never felt so ashamed in her entire life.

"I know I shouldn't, but I just…"

She can't finish the sentence. She bows her head and shakes it, trying to will away the tears which have started to flow again. She feels them lean into her, pressing her between them, their arms around her providing a safe, sheltered cocoon, and all she can do is cry harder. They hug her between them, not a word of judgment passing their lips as they let her cry out her pain. Skye strokes her hair and Leo whispers soft words of love and encouragement in her ear.

"It's alright. No one's blaming you for any of it," he tells her. "We're all here for you and we're not going anywhere."

"I need to get back to work," Jemma says, her voice clogged with tears. "I should be doing something to help."

"When you're ready," Skye says. "Coulson seemed pretty adamant about giving you your space."

"But now's not the time… We can't afford to," Jemma argues. "We need all the help we can get and I'm just sitting here doing nothing."

"You're taking time to get your head on straight," Leo corrects her. "There'll be plenty of work to get back to later. Have you talked to your parents?"

She shakes her head.

"It might make you feel a little better to give them a call. Let them know you're alright. I called mum a few hours ago myself," he says. "I'm glad I did."

"And then get some sleep," Skye tacks on, fingers gently combing through her hair. "Because I'm pretty sure you haven't had much of that."

"We're perfectly happy to give you your space if you need it," Leo says, a hand on her shoulder, "but if you need us, we're here. Remember that. We're always here; that's not going to change, no matter what else does. They can't take that away from us."

It's certainly something to be thankful for. While S.H.I.E.L.D. had been falling down around them, they'd had each other. Given the epic collapse of the organization, with traitors emerging left and right and allies being struck down beneath them, it's a wonder that their little group had emerged mostly unscathed.

"Thank you. Both of you," Jemma says, moving to sit up. Both of them release her from their hold, but hover close by. She looks at the half-eaten sandwich on the bedside table and thinks of Leo's suggestion of calling her parents and Skye's recommendation of sleep. "I think I'll be taking your advice, actually."

"Coulson will be glad to hear it," Leo says, shaking his head as he stands.

Jemma bristles at that. "Why? Did he send you in here?"

"Come on, seriously? You think he has to tell us to come in here?" Skye says, arching an eyebrow and offering her a lopsided smile. "We were just waiting for the right time to come to you. But it hasn't stopped Coulson from asking us every five minutes if you'd spoken to either of us."

"I suppose I should speak to him myself at some point," Jemma admits, still sniffling absently. "I think I ruined one of his shirts."

"Somehow, I think he'll live," Skye says, leaning into her and giving her a playful nudge. Her voice drops in volume as she says, "He's just worried. We all are."

"I'll be fine," Jemma says, giving them both a small, but honest smile. "Honestly. I just… need a bit of time to process all of this, is all."

"Well, we'll be here if you need anything," Leo says as Skye gets up to join him. "I mean it. Just a minute away. If you need anything, anything at all, just call us."

"Thank you," Jemma says, wiping at her eyes. "I will."

They seem reluctant to leave her like this, so she offers them a reassuring smile and a nod of her head, hoping to get them moving. It seems to do the trick, as they at last leave her alone once more. She's been grateful for their company and their support, but she's going to need a few minutes to compose herself for the phone call she's about to make. It's not as though she hasn't noticed the dozens of missed calls, it's just that she hasn't had the time to devote any energy to anything beyond the situation she's currently embroiled in.

She wants to speak to them. She wants them to know she's alright, to ease that fear that they undoubtedly have that something terrible has happened to her. She wants to hear their voices again, even if it's only to talk about some silly thing her father has done at the bakery. So she picks up her phone, sits back against her bunk and dials her parents' number.

It hardly makes it to the second ring before the call is picked up and she hears her father's anxious voice greeting her with, "Jem?"

"Hi, Dad," Jemma breathes out.

She hears her father turn his head away to call to her mother.

"Nancy! Nan, it's Jemma! Pick up the other line!" Greg calls before focusing his attention back on his daughter. "We saw it all on the news. Everything. Are you alright? Maggie had a call from Leo, but when we didn't get one from you, we… Oh, Jem, we've been worried sick."

"I know. I know, I'm sorry I didn't call," Jemma apologizes. "It's just been—"

"Jemma? Oh thank god," Nancy interrupts as they hear her pick up the other line. "Maggie said her boy had told her something had happened with you but we didn't know what. Are you safe? Have you been hurt?"

"Hi, Mum," Jemma says, unable to keep her eyes from watering up at hearing both her parents again. "It's… It's a bit complicated. But I'm safe. I'm not hurt and I'm with my team."

"Sweetheart, we're just so thankful to hear from you," Greg says, sounding decidedly teary as well. "You're sure you're safe? Some of the things they've been saying on the telly…"

"I'm positive. Agent Coulson and Agent May are keeping a close eye on all of us," Jemma assures them. "How much do you know?"

"They're saying S.H.I.E.L.D. has collapsed. That it was infiltrated by HYDRA," Nancy declares. "Frankly, none of us are sure what to believe. It can't have completely collapsed if some of you are still working, can it?"

"Right now we're just trying to reach out and see who's left. HYDRA's corruption went all the way to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s core so at the moment… we don't know who's left. The Director is dead and many of our outposts have been captured," Jemma says, shaking her head. "I don't know what will become of it all."

"If things go belly up, you come home to us, Jem, understand? Bring your whole team, you know we've got the space since it's just me and your Mum now," Greg declares seriously. "We don't mind putting them up until things get sorted."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate the offer," Jemma says earnestly. "But for now, we need to see where this will go and what we can salvage."

"We understand, dear. You do what you have to, just know that we'll be here for you when you need us," Nancy says. In an instant, she suddenly transforms into the no-nonsense barrister that Jemma remembers being unable to hide the truth from and asks, "Now what's happened to you? Leo said something had happened but wouldn't say what."

Jemma doesn't know how to say it. This isn't how she pictured telling them. She'd started making plans to bring Jasper home with her, had even begun writing a list of ways to bring it up to her parents. Now all of that is just another thorn in her side.

"I'm not sure exactly how to go about saying this, but I… I had been seeing someone. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," Jemma says, willing her voice to remain level. "And… he died. In the attack on Washington. I just received the news yesterday."

"Oh, Jem, I'm so sorry," her father says, voicing the heartbreak that she's trying so desperately to hold back. "You never mentioned anyone, we had no idea…"

"I had planned to tell you. Actually, I was making plans with him to bring him home to you when I came to visit in a few months, but… I suppose I just… I just never got around to telling you," Jemma says swallowing thickly.

"He wasn't just someone you were seeing, was he?" Nancy asks, her voice understanding and sympathetic. "He was more to you than that. Oh, Jemma."

"You would have liked him," Jemma says, even as the tears begin again.

She can't tell them what they say he was. She can't bring herself to admit that just yet. In time, perhaps she will be able to tell them, but only after she's accepted it herself—and she knows that isn't going to happen any time soon. So she takes their tearful condolences, their consolation, their love, and focuses on that instead. Jasper is gone and she'll have to come to terms with that, but right now she's surrounded by people who love her—whether they're here or an ocean away—and she knows that with them, she will overcome this. As insurmountable as it seems now, she will come out on top.

It's a still, cool morning when they flee the Hub with Colonel Talbot hot on their heels. When Skye begins erasing their identities, Jemma contacts her parents once more. She explains the situation and asks them to be strong for her, to trust that she will be alright. Because she will be.

Her eyes are dry and hard as she stares out the window.

She's done crying.

She's done being hurt.

Jemma Simmons is ready for war.